It's obvious that Barry is worried about the rest of the people that he was held with, and Derek wonders if maybe he should have done more. But Luke is in good hands with Reid, and Coulson and his team were swarming the place. Derek helped take down plenty of the guys that they were fighting against. He tries to tell himself that he has nothing to feel guilty about. Not in terms of the rescue, anyway.

"It's been two weeks," Derek tells him, frowning slightly both at the reality of that and the weakness in Barry's grip around his hand. He huffs out a humorless laugh at Barry's question, because of course he's worried about Derek too. "A few cuts and scratches. I'll be fine."

He's also pretty sure that a bullet grazed his bicep, but it's just a flesh wound. It'll heal. He's more concerned with Barry and he frowns as he looks him over. He's bruised and pale and so, so thin. He looks gaunt, and he knows from experience that his accelerated healing won't work without fuel. "How about this for a plan. I'll clean us up and get you in bed, and then make you something to eat. Whatever you want, I'll get it for you."

And then, just because he can, he leans in to press a soft, chaste kiss against Barry's pale lips. "I was ready to tear the city apart."